Disclaimer: I don't own Dead or Alive, or any of it's Characters. Any branded devices in this story are copyright of their respective owners.
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Dead or Alive: Une Lutte de la Jeune Fille
By TropicalWeirdo
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Helena Douglas was barely awake when the first wave of rain hit her window. She looked over at the rich red drapes. It had rained seven times in the past two days, A fact Helena knew, as she had been waiting with a paranoid vigilence for the first sign of Sunshine. Why? Because she knew that as soon as the rain stopped, so would the absence of one of Donovan's goons. The last one had been given a new mission in Italy, and therefore had to leave Helena's large manor. He was the first person to enter or exit the manor in two full weeks. The person before that was a caterer, who had come to pick up a cooking utensil he had left behind. All of this was because of Donovan. He was the one who had placed Helena under house arrest. He was the one who held the secret of her parents deaths. He was the current curator of the Dead or Alive Fighting tournament, and was in complete control of the French opera singer.
Helena slowly lifted herself out of her four-poster bed and quietly changed into an outfit she had chosen the previous evening. A plain, button-up white shirt tucked into straight black trousers with a high beltline. She then put on a pair of dark brown boots, and a small gold chain necklace to finish it off. Not too fancy, but still classier than most. Helena then applied some makeup before opening the double wooden doors and heading down the marble stairs to the dining room. Breakfast had already been served, as arranged. Various dishes and plates filled with expensive French delicacies had been laid out around one large cushioned chair at the end, which Helena sat down in. Despite the enourmous amount of food, Helena didn't feel very hungry. She simply sliced a small piece of bread off the loaf, then buttered it lightly. After eating this, she called for her mail to be brought to her. It was only 8:35, and normally she had it arranged to be brought to her at 8:40. Helena made a mental note to change her schedule.
The opera singer motioned for her attendants to leave as she looked idly through the various fan-letters she had recieved. They were all the same, really. "Dear Miss Douglas, blah-blah. Congrats on the great performance blah-blah. I hope you are well blah-blah. I bought eight copies of your record, blah-blah-blah." Helena placed the letters on the table, then sighed. For the first time that morning, she had time to think. However, there was nothing to think about. Nothing at all. Whatsoever. In fact, Helena was completley BORED. Why else would she know whether she was five minutes off-schedule, or whether or not it had rained seven or eight times in the last two days? She was about to leave the dining room when a small voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Er...Miss Helena?"
"Oui?"
"You...er...dropped this."
The attendant handed Helena a letter.
"Thank you, Chérie. You may leave now."
"Yes ma'am."
Helena transferred the letter from hand to hand, surverying the spidery handwriting. Donovan. It was probably one of his 'lunches' where he forced her to tell him everything that had happened over the past few days, and then made her show him some Pi Qua Quan moves, to check that she was not lagging in her study. Helena sighed. She almost didn't want to open the letter, but perhaps, only perhaps, this letter would be different. Maybe it would be something to turn things around. To liven things up. To finally release Helena from the smothering tedium of her Manor. She slowly, carefully, gently lifted the letter from the envelope. Then, just before she opened the folded paper, her heart lurched.
"The attendant...."
In her moment of ecstasy, she had forgotten that Donovan would be sending a new employee to watch over her. Helena sighed once more. That was probably it. The letter was merely a profile of her new babysitter. Helena unfolded the paper.
Dear Miss Douglas,
After much consideration, I have decided that your personal attendants are enough for me to supervise you through. Especially as I shall
soon be travelling to your manor, to supervise the Third Dead or Alive Tournament, which shall be taking place on your property from
April 21st to May 2nd. I trust you shall have ample room for the sixteen others (Including myself) who shall be staying. I will be
arriving with the other competitors in the tournament in precisely two days time (April 18th) Until then, Fare Well.
--Donovan
Helena folded the paper, then smiled. A break from the tedium. A sign from god. This was it. Now, it was time to prepare...
A/N: Sorry if that chapter was a bit slow...just trying to "Set the Scene" Also, that French may not be correct. Much apologies if I'm wrong...I won't be able to update for a while, either as I shall be out of acsess of a computer for a while. Oh well.
As my saying goes: Sayonara! Read and Review
-Trop.